


just survival

by randomfills (spnfanatic)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Apocalypse world, BAMF Dean Winchester, BAMF Lucifer, Blood and Gore, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel is dead, Dean Winchester Has Issues, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Like really really slow, Like really slow, Lucifer Being an Asshole (Supernatural), Lucifer Has Issues (Supernatural), Lucifer's Fall (Supernatural), M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV shifts, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Lucifer, Rating May Change, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Snarky Dean Winchester, Snarky Lucifer, Survival, a what if, a/u to season 13, eventual ducifer, i think, lucifer is a complex character, post season 12, so is dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25738864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnfanatic/pseuds/randomfills
Summary: A/U to season 13. It was like watching a car wreck in slow motion. Dean’s eyes widened in horror as Mary took a step toward Lucifer and slammed a fist into his face, the knuckles glowing with those powerful sigils. Lucifer stumbled back, just a few steps closer to the ever closing rift, and Dean watched as Mary punched Lucifer again with her other fist. She punched him a third time and he was so close, one more good jab and he was going to fall in, but then he reached out to grab her and that was when Dean moved into action without another thought, ignoring Sam’s yell of “DEAN!”, shrugging off his sorry attempt to pull him back. This was mom, and she was NOT going to die (or worse) like Cas. He ran toward them, surprising them both as he tackled Lucifer into the rift, pushing them both onto the other side...shit.Lucifer and Dean end up trapped in Apocalypse World with a crazy Michael bent on destroying everything. In order to survive and find a way back, they have to put aside their differences and work together. Easier said than done...Eventual Lucifer/Dean
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Lucifer/Dean Winchester
Comments: 44
Kudos: 86





	1. through the rift

**Author's Note:**

> Just an experimental story. Lucifer/Dean bromance/pairing has been a guilty pleasure of mine. Also Apocalypse Michael has always kind of fascinated me. Don't judge me. Too much. Will be casually updated.

Dean was still trying to make sense of what happened just a few minutes ago. Castiel, the angel who (“gripped you tight and raised you from perdition, Dean”) had always been by their side when they needed him most, was lying cold and motionless on the ground just a few feet away. This was like a nightmare come to life and part of Dean refused to admit that his best friend had just been killed before his very eyes. 

_Cas is just asleep, he’s gonna wake up and beat the shit out of Lucifer._

A minute passed and Castiel was still dead and Dean tried not to stare at the corpse of his best friend but it was hard not to. He was right there on the ground, in his stupid, battered coat he refused to take off (the coat that Dean made fun of him for, that he wore like a second skin), and there was blood, lots of blood seeping out of him, dripping to the ground, and Dean thought, ridiculously, _angels don’t bleed_ (but Jimmy’s old vessel does).

“Well that was fun, right, guys?” The devil’s (Nick’s really, the devil just wore his vessel like a cheap prom dress) voice jolted him out of his thoughts. Lucifer was smiling at them like they were old friends talking about something as mundane as bowling. Dean, still reeling from what happened to Castiel, wasn’t sure how to react. Then Lucifer nudged Castiel’s body over with a foot, all so casually, like he hadn’t just killed the guy. 

Dean curled his fingers, feeling his nails digging into the flesh of his palms, as anger spiked through him. How fucking dare he. Castiel wasn’t just the Winchesters’ best friend, he was Lucifer’s _brother_. He could hear Sam stepping closer, could feel his hand clamp down on his shoulder as his brother hissed, “Don’t do something stupid, Dean.”

Dean wanted to say back, “ _I’m not, now fucking let go_ ,” but Sam’s hand just squeezed his shoulder tighter, his fingers pressed into Dean’s skin so hard it was probably going to leave a bruise by the end of this. He didn’t care though, hardly even noticed the pain. He forced himself to relax though because Sam was right, if he charged the devil now, he’d probably lose that fight. Lucifer might not be as strong as he used to be but that didn’t mean he didn’t have the juice to kill them both in an instant. He couldn’t help but glance back at Castiel's dead body. Castiel had been their only other hope, Crowley’s plan being their first. And well, obviously that failed spectacularly.

“Enough of the foreplay already, boys. You lose, I win,” Lucifer was saying loudly over Dean’s bitter thoughts. He sounded cheerful, as usual. And that just made Dean angrier. He was clenching his hands again. Fuck the devil. Fuck everything.

“Dean,” Sam whispered. He knew his brother could feel his muscles tensing again, knew Dean was hatching a really stupid plan in his head. But it wasn’t like he could help it. They were rapidly running out of options here, backed up against the wall.

Then, like out of an action movie, Mary stepped in between them and they both spun around when she said, “Get away from them.”

She looked beautiful and yet also fearsome, her eyes narrowed and her lips curled downward. Lucifer didn’t seem all that intimidated though. “Mary, right? Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He paused, looking her up and down, slowly, and Dean wanted to pummel the smirk off his face. “You, uh, certainly are living up to the hype.”

Dean could feel himself tense even more, readying himself to rush the douche, but Mary stepped forward and Dean froze at the sight of the knuckles she was hiding behind her. It was like watching a car wreck in slow motion. It clicked inside his head what Mary was about to do.

“Mom, wait,” Sam tried, realizing at the same time Dean did.

But Mary was a Winchester (and a Campbell) and it wasn’t in the Winchester’s blood to roll over and play dead. No, Dean knew that look. It was the look Sam got when he had a stupid idea and no one was going to stop him. It was the look Dean got when he was going to do something really dumb and he knew it but he was already committed.

She smiled and said, “I love you.” Then she stepped toward Lucifer.

Dean could feel his eyes widen in horror as she then wordlessly slammed a fist into his face, the knuckles glowing with those powerful sigils. Lucifer stumbled back from the sheer force, looking surprised she even did that. He was just a few steps closer to the ever closing rift, and Dean watched as Mary punched Lucifer again with her other fist. 

There was a sickening crack on the second impact.

She punched him a third time and he was so close, one more good jab and he was going to fall in, but then he reached out to grab her and it was like the whole world just stopped. His mind went back to when Sam jumped into the cage for the first time. When Michael, wearing Adam, tried to pull him from the edge, but instead, Sam dragged him down with him. Nonono not mom. 

Dean found himself moving into action without another thought, ignoring Sam’s yell of “DEAN!”, shrugging off his sorry attempt to pull him back. This was mom, and she was NOT going to die (or worse) like Cas. He ran toward them, surprising them both as he tackled Lucifer into the rift, pushing them both onto the other side.

The rift winked out of existence behind them.

He tumbled head first into the dirt, colliding into another body on his way down. His head throbbed and he vaguely heard someone say, "No, no, no. That can't...it was just here!" Then before he could process what was happening, he was being hauled up to his feet, a hand wrapped around his neck, cutting off his air. Dean clawed at the hand that was choking him, but the hand was stronger, and when he opened his eyes, he was staring into the red eyes of the devil.

“You stupid, piece of shit,” Lucifer snarled. “Do you have any idea what you just did?”

Lucifer shook him like a rag doll, turning them both around so that Dean could see that where the rift had once been, there were just trees. _Shit_ , he thought.

“Now we’re both trapped here,” Lucifer seethed.

Dean was still having trouble staying awake. The lack of oxygen was going to cause him to pass out. “Better...me than mom,” he told the devil with a grin. Then he gave himself over to the darkness.


	2. deal with the devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this story is completely my own self-indulgence.

“Wakey, wakey, Dean-o.”

Dean groaned as he felt hands start to shake him. He made a half-hearted attempt to bat them away. When the hands just continued, he found himself grumbling, “Fuck, Sammy. Just give me a minute, will ya?”

Abruptly, the shaking stopped, and Dean was secretly grateful. Finally Sam was getting the memo. “Think I’m _Sammy_?” Hot breath ghosted his skin causing Dean to shiver. Then...something seemed to click in his head. That voice in his ear was definitely not Sam. His eyes shot open and he was looking up at Lucifer, a smirk on his face. “Good morning, sunshine,” the devil said casually.

Dean found himself frozen in place, bewildered as to what Lucifer was doing here. Lucifer crouched in front of him and Dean, on instinct, scrambled back. “Lucifer?”

“The one and only,” Lucifer replied.

“What the fuck do you want?” Dean demanded, stumbling to his feet. He took in their surroundings, not finding anything at all familiar and fuck was that not good. Where the hell were they? “And where are we?”

“You don’t remember?” Lucifer asked as he rose back up. Standing fully, Dean was aware they were both the same height. “This is your fault, you know. You got us stuck in this awful place.” _What_? 

Dean looked around them again. Where the hell were mom and Sam? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He took a step back when Lucifer took a step toward him. He didn’t know what Lucifer’s plan was, but he was definitely going to put as much distance between them as possible. _Just bide some time for Sam to show up._

The devil didn’t seem to care though. He continued to walk toward Dean. “Don’t come any closer,” Dean growled, taking a more defensive stance. Fuckfuckfuck. “I don’t know what your end game is, but you step any closer, you’re gonna fucking regret it.”

Lucifer stopped, seeming to consider Dean’s words. “You’re not just playing dumb,” he said slowly, as understanding dawned on him. “You actually don’t remember what happened last night.” What? Dean wanted to ask what the hell he was talking about but Lucifer was walking over to him again, his strides long and purposeful and in less than a moment, he was right in front of Dean, his eyes flashing red. “Here, let me jog your memories.” Then his fingers pressed against his forehead and Dean was suddenly assaulted by images.

An image of Castiel, his body prone and lifeless, stabbed in the back by his brother.

An image of Sam standing next to him, watching in silent horror as he witnessed the same cold blooded murder.

An image of mom coming to stand in front of them, trying her best to protect them like moms do. Her fists, wearing those brass knuckles with the angel sigils, glowing brightly as she punched the devil, not once, not twice but three times.

The last image that flashed in front of him was of him flinging himself at Lucifer, taking them both through the rift just as it blinked out of existence.

Dean reeled back, away from Lucifer, a look of shock on his face. Oh _fuck_. He was stuck on the other side with the devil. He was so, _so_ screwed.

“Yeah, you kind of are,” Lucifer said, and Dean’s head shot up in surprise. Did he say that out loud? The devil just shrugged, and continued in that casual tone that annoyed the crap out of Dean, “Or maybe you’re not.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?” _He’s the devil, don’t listen to him_ , he chastised himself mentally. “Don’t you want me dead?”

Lucifer crossed his arms and looked him up and down. “I’m not going to kill you, Dean-o.” He paused, looking around them. Then he looked back toward Dean and Dean couldn’t help but tense. “As much as I’m loath to admit, you’re more useful to me alive.”

“How so?” Dean asked, crossing his own arms.

The devil rolled his eyes. “Do you really need me to spell it out for you? I’m an angel, with diminished powers and you’re a hunter with expert fighting skills and we’re stuck in this shithole. I want to get out of here in one piece and I know you want to get out as well. Come on, Dean-o, put two and two together. We _need_ each other.”

“Well when you put it that way,” Dean deadpanned. “Maybe you need me but I certainly don’t need you.” He picked a direction that was away from Lucifer and started to stomp away. When he’d put a few more feet of distance between them, he dared to turn to see that Lucifer made no move to follow him. Good. “If I ever catch your ugly mug anywhere near me, I won’t hesitate to kill you,” he shouted over his shoulder. He didn’t wait for some snarky response from the devil, just turned back around and continued to walk.

It felt good to be able to get the last word in and just leave, kind of like leaving behind an abusive relationship. 

Dean wasn’t sure how long he walked for. Probably twenty minutes? Maybe thirty? He wasn’t even sure where he was going and even less sure how he was supposed to get back. It wasn’t like rifts like that were just sitting around everywhere, waiting for people to use them. It’d be cool, fucking awesome. Like in Star Trek. But real life wasn’t a TV show. Real life was darker. Grittier. Full of pain and unnecessary hardships and solutions that weren’t just handed to you on a silver platter. And even worse than real life consequences had to be the Winchester luck, AKA the worst kind of luck out there. Which was kicking into second gear as he heard a rustle in the brush, and he had just a second to dive to the ground as something dark and too fast to be human flung itself at him.

The thing that looked human but couldn’t be human got up and charged him again. Dean rolled out of the way of sharp claws and rose to his feet. Shit, he thought. There was a second of panic as the thing opened its mouth and he could see the rows and rows of sharp teeth he sure could tear him apart as easily as paper. What the fuck was this thing? It looked human, but it had black eyes, like a demon. Its ears were pointy and its skin was pale and it wore human clothes but again, there was no way this thing was human. It roared and swung its hand at Dean like it was a sword and Dean barely had time to duck out of the way. He grabbed the gun he kept in his jacket and fired at it twice.

The monster, person, whatever shrieked, its body shook with the impact of the bullets and Dean watched, half in horror and half in fascination as the flesh seemed to sizzle for a moment, before the wound started to close up. Silver bullets, no dice, he thought as he began to back away. He got a knife strapped to the back of his boot, he just needed a few seconds to reach for it.

As if reading his mind, the monster gave another roar and lunged at him and Dean’s arms instantly went up to protect his face, squeezing his eyes shut at the same time. He waited a moment for the inevitable pain that came with getting his face ripped off. But it didn’t come. Instead, the monster shrieked in pain and there was a loud thud as its body fell to the ground. Dean opened his eyes and dropped his arms. Lucifer smirked, his hand still stretched out in front of him. “Well, that was a little dramatic, don’t you think?” Lucifer said. “Missed me, Dean-o?”

Fuck. Dean had never been more relieved to see the devil.


	3. lucifer's an unwanted puppy...that can smite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV shifts will prob happen next chapter with Mary and Sam. And this pairing is a long ways off haha. Can't have Dean and Lucifer a thing with Lucifer the way he is right now. Hope you guys don't mind the wait.

“You know you’re acting really childish right now,” Lucifer said.

Dean continued to walk with Lucifer trailing behind him like a lost, and very much _unwanted_ puppy. That happened to have the juice to smite him.

“Deaaan,” the devil whined, and Dean found himself gritting his teeth, “come on. Quit ignoring me.” 

Yeah, okay. Fuck what he said earlier about feeling relieved to be saved by Lucifer.

 _Don’t say anything, don’t even look at him, he’ll get bored eventually_ , he thought to himself.

_“What the hell was that thing?” Dean asked once he was able to catch his breath again. He stood up, ignoring Lucifer’s offering hand._

_The devil didn’t seem to mind. He dropped to the ground and peered curiously down at the creature he just killed. He reached out and flipped it over so it was laying flat on its back. “Interesting,” he murmured, taking in the fangs jutting from its mouth. The thing was pale like a vampire and if it hadn’t been for those sunken black eyes and those pointy ears, Dean would have thought that was what it was. The devil stood up and said, “It’s a vampire.”_

It wasn’t like any vampire Dean had ever seen. But Lucifer seemed fairly confident and Dean decided to just let it go for now. After that encounter, there’d been an explosion in the distance and they decided right then to come to a temporary truce and get the hell out of dodge. But now...now Dean was kind of regretting everything. Because Lucifer would not fucking shut up, trying to act like they were best friends when in reality, if they weren’t stuck in this god awful place that apparently still had vampires, he’d take that archangel blade and stick it through Lucifer’s neck.

Unfortunately Lucifer had a point. They may need each other if they were going to make it through this warzone alive. He just wished for once the devil would stop talking though.

But Lucifer continued, his tone still casual, “You know, you’re really beginning to remind me of someone we both know.” He paused for a moment and Dean tensed. Then, “Have I told you about that time I spent in the cage with _Sammy_?” Lucifer chuckled as Dean stopped dead in his tracks. Hold the fuck up. “Hoo, boy, and you thought your stint in Hell was long and ‘torturous’, try spending an earth year in the cage with just me and my brother for company. I mean, _Michael_ alone, I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies. But your brother...man was he stubborn. Like how did you put up with the kid for so long?” The devil waited for a reply but Dean refused to answer. 

_Don’t play into it, don’t you dare play into it._ But god did he want to. He wanted to demand to know what the hell he was on about so bad. But that was what Lucifer wanted. Lucifer thrived on attention.

Lucifer sighed, realizing Dean wasn’t going to give in so quickly, “I see it’s a Winchester trait. Daddy Winchester must’ve been one hell of a guy, huh? Lost his wife to a demon, but instead of taking the easy route and losing himself to the bottle or taking his own life, like other people, he became a hunter.” Don’t fucking to do something you’ll regret, Dean. “Crazy must also run in the family too-” 

Okay, fuck that. Dean had enough. He took out his gun and pointed it at Lucifer’s head. “Shut the fuck up about my dad,” he growled and pulled the trigger.

In hindsight, shooting the devil was usually never a good idea. Especially when said devil was actually one of the four archangels and they couldn’t be killed by normal means. But damn did it feel good to shoot the douche at least once, and watch him stagger back from the impact of the bullet with a look of sheer surprise on his face. Dean really hated seeing that lazy grin on him.

“Okay, owww,” the devil said dramatically, even as the bullet slowly started to come out of the wound like a rubber band snapping back in place. He touched his forehead gingerly as the bullet fell to the ground with barely a sound and the wound started to heal on its own.

Seeing that pissed Dean off even more and he pulled the trigger a second time. The loud ring of the gun going off almost deafened him, but he didn’t care. Fuck Lucifer. Fuck listening to him go on and on about his dad, about Sammy. He didn’t need this. He was barely even tolerating his presence as it was. The second time was not nearly as satisfying because Lucifer saw it in time and ducked out of the way. The bullet whizzed past him and hit a tree in the distance instead.

Dean glared. “Look, I know we said we ‘needed’ each other, but this is only _temporary_. As soon as we find a way out of here, I’m going to go back to killing you.”

Lucifer just smirked. Dean’s glare deepened, “What?”

“You finally spoke to me,” Lucifer said.

Dean rolled his eyes. Great. He put the safety back on and shoved his gun into his jacket. “Just kill me now,” he murmured to himself.

“Oh come on, Dean. Just admit I’m growing on you,” Lucifer said.

“Like hell! You killed my best friend,” Dean pointed out.

“Right. What was his name again? Castiel? Sorry about that.”

“No you’re not.”

“You're right. I’m not.”

Dean sighed. This was going to be a long day. They began to walk again.


	4. dean can't be gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the POV shift. Will be going back to Lucifer and Dean next chapter because they're too fun not to write.

“No, no, no! Dean!” Sam refused to believe what just happened. Dean was just here. He had been within Sam’s grasp. He fell to his knees, punching the ground in frustration. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have let Dean go like that? Of course his brother was going to do something so incredibly stupid like tackling the fucking devil into the rift (which they barely had a clue what was on the other side, apart from freaking demons and angels and another version of _Bobby_ ). 

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Mary looking down at him, her eyes kind and her mouth a thin line on her face. She still wore the brass knuckles and they were pressing down on his shoulder and her hand was a little bloodied, maybe a little bruised but she didn’t look like she was in pain. She just looked...tired.

“Hey, mom,” he said, trying to smile, but it probably came off forced.

“Sam,” she said simply before wrapping him into a hug. 

Sam let her. Pressed himself closer, taking in her warmth. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend that the last hour didn’t happen. For just a moment he could almost get himself to believe things were okay. That Dean was still here and Castiel was still alive and the devil was back in the cage where he belonged (or dead, at least then he wouldn’t have a chance to get out again and cause more grief). They stayed like this for a few minutes before Mary finally leaned back and the warmth that once surrounded Sam was gone. He tried to follow her on instinct but Mary stopped him with a gentle hand and she said, “Come on, Sam. You know we have work to do.”

And just like that he had to open his eyes and return to the dark reality of a missing brother and a dead angel and the birth of a _monster_.

Sam knew Castiel deserved a proper farewell. He was more than just a run of the mill schmuck. He was an angel and a hunter and a comrade and a friend and a brother, all wrapped in one. He just had the misfortune to have had his destiny entwined with the Winchesters. Poor guy would still be alive if he’d never met either Dean or Sam. Obviously it didn’t matter anymore. He was dead and he deserved a hunter’s (Winchester’s) send off. It would’ve been what Dean wanted. Would’ve been what Castiel wanted. And while they were at it, he figured they could do the same with Kelly Kline if she hadn’t made it through her pregnancy. Judging from all that had happened he had a feeling she probably didn’t and she seemed to have accepted her fate near the end.

He looked over at Mary. She was still looking down at Castiel’s body. Sam found himself putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. She startled a little and looked back at him, a little smile gracing her otherwise tired and pale face. “He seemed like a nice...angel,” she said.

Sam found himself nodding. Castiel was one of the better angels. One who rebelled for them, put his life on the line over and over again, went against all odds just for the Winchesters. Nice seemed like the understatement of the year. But all he could work his mouth to say was, “Yeah.”

Part of Sam was still numb to what happened. It all just seemed so surreal, like Sam was walking through a dream right now (really, a nightmare) and he’d wake up any minute, screaming out for Dean and his brother would come rushing in and Sam would stutter and sob and tell him all about how the devil pulled him through the rift and Dean would just laugh a little and pull him into a tight hug and tell him, “Hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay, Sammy. Just a bad dream, man. I’m right here, I’m right here. I’m alright.” That was just what Sam imagined. It wasn’t reality.

The reality was that Crowley died in vain.

The reality was that the devil managed to kill Castiel.

The reality was that Dean was now trapped on the other side with angels and demons and a raging war with said devil.

The reality was that Sam had no idea what to do now without his big brother by his side and he almost wished it had been mom instead of Dean. Almost.

Because the reality was that Mary was trying everything within her power to comfort Sam and get things done while Sam was still wallowing in guilt and self pity and he knew he was acting like a goddamn baby and he really needed to get his shit together because reality was that Dean wasn’t here and Castiel wasn’t here but Mary still was and he still was.

And...Mary needed him to act like a hunter, not a stupid little kid who already missed his brother. 

_Get your shit together_ , he thought.

Eventually he made himself climb the steps up to the house. Mary followed right behind him.

The house was quiet. A little too quiet for Sam’s liking. He walked up the stairs slowly, a sense of foreboding almost suddenly overtaking him. The door to Kelly’s room was widely open and Sam took a hesitant step inside. He hadn’t even noticed Mary wasn’t with him anymore. Didn’t really care once he saw the lifeless body of Kelly Kline. Sam sighed. He knew deep down she wouldn’t make it. Everyone did. But he still hoped she would. He walked over to take a better look at her. His hand lingered on the bedspread for a moment, hovering just near her body, before reaching over to close her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Kelly,” he said to the empty air.

Yeah, she was going to get a proper send off along with Castiel. They both deserved better. He looked at her for another moment, wishing things had played out differently. Wishing she hadn’t wanted to give birth to the devil’s son. If she’d gone with the Winchesters and decided she didn’t want to keep the baby, they would’ve found a way to save her. He was sure of it.

Just another reason to hate Lucifer if you asked Sam.

As he turned to leave the room, he noticed Mary’s silhouette just out in the hallway. “Uh, Sam, you might want to come and check this out,” she said and Sam felt that same sense of apprehension start to descend again. The nervousness in his mom’s voice was enough to get him moving again and they both walked down the hall to _Jack’s_ room.


	5. the devil just wants a thank you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Dean/Lucifer bonding!

“Son of a bitch! I had it, you dick,” Dean snapped as Lucifer used his stupid angel smiting powers on yet another of those vampires which he was still not even convinced was even a vampire. 

No matter how many times the devil insisted that was what they were, they seemed more like zombies with fangs (Zompire, perhaps? Ha. Sounded kind of funny). Like for one, they were skinny as hell. Like they’d been starved, which, come on. Would a vampire even let themselves starve? That seemed like such a ridiculous notion. And second, their eyes. Pitch black, like a demon’s. And then there were those pointy ears that reminded Dean of a cartoon elf. And not to mention they were dumb as rocks. Yeah there was no fucking way these things were vampires. He didn’t care what Lucifer said about them. He refused to call them vampires.

“You know when someone saves you, usually you say ‘thank you’,” Lucifer said, though he didn’t seem too terribly bothered by Dean’s lack of manners. In fact, he seemed more amused than anything. 

Dean rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to snark back, but then another one of those things reared its ugly head just behind the angel and Dean didn’t hesitate to grab his knife and fling it at the monster. Lucifer just barely saw what Dean was doing and ducked. The vampire-zombie (Zompire, dammit!) screeched as the knife sunk into its head and Lucifer whirled around in time as it made to lunge at him. He reached out to grab its head in one powerful hand and his eyes glowed a bright blue as he proceeded to smite it. Dean was awestruck at seeing the blinding light that engulfed the body. Damn angels were freaking powerful.

When the light show was over and Lucifer let the body drop to the ground, Dean walked over and pulled the knife from its head, not even grimacing when he saw the blood and chunks of flesh covering it. He shook the stuff off in one fluid motion and sheathed it back into the strap of his boot. He looked up at Lucifer with a raised eyebrow.

“I think this makes us even now,” he said with a little smirk. 

It was Lucifer’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled but followed Dean when he started walking again.

They’d been at it for hours by now, Dean was sure. He still had no idea where they were even going. They just picked a direction that was away from explosions and falling angels. But now that he was thinking about it, after hours of fighting these stupid Zompires and occasionally smiting a straggling angel, it was probably a bad idea. He was getting hungry and thirsty and tired and they still had no idea how to even get back home. Like did one of those rifts even exist in this world? Or was that one just something special that came from birthing a freaking _nephilim_?

“You know if you still have your smiting powers, can’t you just use your other powers to teleport us out of here or something?” Dean grumbled, breaking the silence.

“Do you really think that if I still had those capabilities, I’d be here in this crappy place stuck with _you_ of all people?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You say that like you'd rather be stuck with someone else but I’ll have you know, I’m _great_ company,” he said. _Better than you at least._ He didn’t say that last bit out loud. Instead, he asked, “What else can you _still_ do?” In all honesty, even if all Lucifer could do was smite stuff, at least he wasn’t completely useless. He thought back to when Eve used her unholy monster mojo to turn Castiel into a baby in a trench-coat so to speak. He found himself smiling a little when he remembered Castiel’s adorable little pout when he called him that. At the time he thought the angel’s response was immature as hell, come on it wasn’t like Dean really meant it. He just liked to joke a lot, especially in dire situations. It was just a thing he did, like a defense mechanism. Walls closing in, looked like they were gonna die, fucking yeah Dean was gonna joke and go down swinging.

“Let’s see, I can still heal, and do that thing with my hand where it glows and shit explodes,” Lucifer said, pulling Dean back to reality. He didn’t miss the sarcasm in his voice. “The really important shit, I can still do, so don’t worry your pretty little head, Dean-o.”

Dean ignored the hated nickname. “So basically you’re useless in anything that doesn’t involve blowing crap up with your hands. Duly noted.” Great. So no teleporting out of a shitty situation. And Lucifer was only going to be really good in battle if he could get close enough to something to touch it. So he was almost as useless…

“Don’t forget this,” Lucifer said, taking out his archangel blade.

“You’d still need to get close enough to whatever we’re fighting to even use it,” Dean pointed out. “Really wish I still had one of those machine guns with the angel bullets.”

“Oh yeah, that thing. You know those bullets really hurt.”

Dean rolled his eyes as Lucifer feigned a wounded look. “Yeah well you look fine now to me,” Dean said. He had really wished those bullets worked. But of course they wouldn’t. He was a freaking archangel.

“No thanks to you,” Lucifer muttered.

“I didn’t kill you.” _Though I really want to._ “Now quit complaining and let’s go. We’re losing daylight.”

They walked for another hour before they came across dead bodies scattered on the ground. Dean walked over to the one closest to them and crouched down to examine it. Guy looked middle aged, his clothes seemed of a military uniform. There were no fangs, no pointy ears. His complexion was light but not super pale, like a vampire. He looked human, and laying next to him was a gun. Kind of similar to the one other Bobby carried. He took the gun from the ground and started to fiddle with it. The devil walked over to stand next to him, curious as to what he was doing. Finally, he pulled out one of the bullets and rolled it over between his fingers. Just as he thought.

He stood up and showed it to Lucifer. He watched as the devil frowned, examining it closely. “Angel bullet,” Dean said when Lucifer looked back up at him. “He was a hunter. Or soldier I guess.” He kept forgetting this world was still being ravaged by a war he and Sam had prevented in their own world.

He gripped the gun tightly. At least he now had a more useful weapon. He was about to tell Lucifer they should probably keep moving if they wanted to find a place to crash before night fell (because honestly, Dean was getting tired), but there was a sudden loud explosion and the whole place nearly lit up in that blinding flash of bright celestial light that was usually followed by another dick with wings.

Wait.

“Get down!” Lucifer shouted over the explosion of grace. He was shoved to the ground before he could even process what was happening.

Shitshitshit. What the fuck was going on?

The light faded after a minute and Dean heard the flapping of wings and a voice say, “Lucifer?”

There was another moment of dead silence.

Then. “Zachariah.”


	6. au zachariah is still a giant dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapters. They'll eventually get longer. Also, in case anyone needs a reference to what AU Zachariah looked like, here's a link: https://supernatural.fandom.com/wiki/Zachariah_(Apocalypse_World)  
> Also thank you guys for all the kudos and comments. I'm pleasantly surprised how many of you guys have been interested in this story so far. It has certainly been entertaining to write this, so I'm glad it's not just me haha.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” the angel who claimed to be Zachariah asked.

“What? Who the hell said that? As you can see, I’m very much alive,” Lucifer said, looking offended. Dean rolled his eyes. Really? He picked _that_ to get upset over? “And shouldn’t _you_ be the one dead as a doornail? I heard you got stabbed by an angel blade courtesy of Dean-o here.”

“Yeah. I stabbed you through the jugular, angel boy. You lit up like a freaking Christmas tree. And what’s with the meatsuit? What happened to that snake oil salesman you had going?” Dean looked the angel up and down, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Are you really Zachariah?”

Zachariah raised an eyebrow at Dean, studying him like he was a new type of bug. “I assure you I have and always will be Zachariah.” His gaze moved to Lucifer. “Hm...this is quite peculiar, Lucifer.” He started to circle them slowly, and Dean tensed up, gripping the gun even tighter. Zachariah noticed and with a flick of his fingers, the gun flew out of Dean’s grasp and landed a few feet away near a charred body. He hadn’t even noticed that body there. “Your grace seems different but you feel like Lucifer. Neither you nor the boy are from here.” Zachariah finally stopped behind them.

Dean whirled around to face the angel. “I’m _not_ a boy,” Dean snapped.

“Fine. Hairless ape. Seems more fitting anyways.” Zachariah chuckled at his little joke.

Different meatsuit, same dick attitude. Dean wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or annoyed that some things could always count to stay the same.

“You know, usually I’m all for making fun of the little human, but it’s only funny when **I** make the jokes,” Lucifer cut in before Dean could respond.

Dean blinked. What? He glanced over at the devil who had his eyes trained on Zachariah. That sounded weirdly...possessive. And okay. Wow. Possessive and the devil? Yeah two things that should never be together in any capacity. Ever.

Zachariah frowned. “You don’t think it was funny?”

“I don’t think _you’re_ funny,” Lucifer corrected.

The two continued to stare at each other for another minute. Dean wanted to roll his eyes. This was weird. And dumb. “Okay, put your junks away.” He turned back to Lucifer who seemed to be ignoring him in favor of staring down the other angel. “Seriously. I’ve been called way worse. Some of which was by _you_.”

“I have to wonder, Lucifer, why you’re even traveling with a _human_ to begin with. I thought they were beneath you,” Zachariah said, completely ignoring Dean. Dean clenched his hands. He really hated being talked about like he wasn’t here.

Lucifer just shrugged. “What can I say? They’ve grown on me.” Which was a lie. Dean could see it in his eyes. He tolerated Dean, sure, but only because of their little truce. As soon as they found a way out of this hellhole, they were going to go back to trying to kill each other. Which was fine by Dean.

“Is that so? The devil growing fond of the hairless little apes? You _are_ funny,” Zachariah sneered.

Lucifer’s eyes flashed red. “What did I tell you about making jokes?” He stretched out his hand toward the angel like he was going to smite him without even touching him, and for a brief moment, Dean wondered if he lied about the extent of his abilities. It didn’t end up mattering. Zachariah’s eyes widened and took a stumbling step back.

“Wherever you came from, you’re going to regret coming here, Lucifer,” Zachariah said. “Michael will be informed of this and he’ll kill you a second time.” Then he was gone with the flapping of wings.

They watched the spot where the angel had been for a moment in silence. Then Dean spun around to face the archangel. “What the fuck was that? Was that seriously Zachariah? And is Michael really loose and about here?” Dean demanded, vaguely realizing from the look Lucifer was giving him the devil was just as clueless. Fuck.

“Apparently,” Lucifer said. He looked around them after a moment, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Dean didn’t like that look. “What?”

“If angels like Zachariah can feel my grace, then it would be easy enough for my brother to as well. We should go.”

“Go where exactly? We’re kind of lost, genius,” Dean snapped, agitated. He knew Lucifer was right. It was better if they kept moving, even if Michael could locate them easily. What they really needed to get to was some kind of camp or base. If this was a war on earth, there had to be survivors, _human_ survivors, right? And surely, they could help…


	7. jack, jack in the box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Again thank you for all the kudos and comments, guys. I know these are short chapters. I apologize. But hopefully when the plot picks up more, they will be longer. Question. Do you want to see more Sam and Mary and Jack? Or is it good with a couple chapters here and there about them and how they interact, and keep the focus on Dean and Lucifer in Apocalypse World?

Sam honestly had no idea what to expect upon seeing Lucifer’s child. Horns? Red skin? Demonic black eyes? Something that said, ‘yes, this is the devil’s kid’, that defined the child as a monster. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or perplexed that what he found in Jack’s room, was a normal looking _human_ boy.

Naked. Huddled in the corner. With brown hair and pale skin. And he was staring up at Mary and Sam, equally puzzled and maybe a little...scared (and was that even possible)? It was why Sam went on instinct and crouched down and took the opportunity to study him, even as Mary stood next to him, also watching with apprehension, muscles tense. The...nephilim watched their every move. There was something dangerous in his eyes, and yet equally innocent. Which was probably why Sam felt drawn to the child in a way he would never be with Lucifer. This kid, who might’ve been born from a fallen angel, had also been born from a _human_ mother.

It was weirdly fascinating how a monster like Lucifer could create something like Jack. He could feel the curiosity practically radiating from the nephilim and without even thinking, he reached out to touch him. Jack sat there and watched and it was a little unnerving but he was already almost halfway there. When he was within mere inches from touching his face, Jack suddenly reared back and his eyes flashed gold and he bared his teeth and said, “Don’t touch me!”

And in that moment, however brief it was, Sam could feel the kid’s _powers_. His grace was everywhere in the room, made the air hot and heavy and Sam gasped, trying to take in a lungful of air. “Okay, sorry.” He backed away. “I’m sorry.”

“Who. Are. You?” Jack’s voice was low, his eyes still that glowing gold that Sam knew no human possessed. This was what distinguished Jack from other human children. From him. And Mary. And even Kelly Kline.

Sam had no doubts at all that Jack was the son of the devil.

-

Traipsing around this shitty, half ravaged world, with the devil as his only company had to be worse than any road trip Dean had ever taken with his brother. These last few days had been hell. When they find a way out of this shit infested wasteland of a world, he was so going to go to the nearest diner, and order everything on the menu, starting with a freaking bacon cheeseburger with a large serving of fries and a slice of heavenly apple pie. And no amount of Sam’s stupid bitch faces were going to deter him from his amazingly juicy burger. Because eating these outdated, gross canned shit? Yeah a guy could only do it for so long before his stomach screamed, ‘what the fuck are you putting into me, you fucking asshole?’ and rebelled, hard.

And don’t even get Dean started about the creepy ass animals here. Deer that had too many antlers, too many legs. Birds with four wings and black eyes that seemed to stare into your soul. It was out of every creepy ass sci-fi or horror movie. But Dean had been too starved and sick of canned shit that he’d given in the other night and killed one of the deer things. Tasted awful, but less awful than what he’d been eating before. All the while, the devil watched him with a little too much glee on his face.

They hadn’t found a camp of humans the last few nights so they’d been forced to sleep under large rocks, covered by thick trees that easily towered over them. Last night they’d found a half earthed shack that looked ready to fall over against a strong gust of wind. Dean had gotten used to sleeping on hard ground, so he’d curled up against the wall closest to the door, his knife tucked under one arm. Lucifer had stood nearby, arms folded, looking around the place for anything out of the ordinary. It was lucky for Dean that he was still angel enough to not need sleep.

Dean woke up the next morning to be greeted by sunlight streaming in through the only window in the shack. The door was wide open and Lucifer was standing just outside. He peeked in and said, “About time you woke up, princess.”

Dean scowled, wishing he was still asleep so that he didn’t have to look at the devil’s smug face. “Don’t call me that,” he snapped, sitting up slowly. Even though Dean was slowly getting used to sleeping in less than ideal places, he really hated the fact that he wasn’t back at the bunker. He’d grown so accustomed to sleeping on an actually comfortable bed with a mattress that wasn’t lumpy in all the wrong places. He missed the smell of bacon and coffee in the morning and even Sam’s bitch faces.

It had barely been four days in this godforsaken place and he was already home sick. Damn.


End file.
